The Arena
by Raven Whisperer
Summary: Prince Lotor has won the day and erased the progress the paladins have made. All five of the paladins are separated, having no idea where the others are. Pidge has been enslaved inside of the Galra Arena, not as a warrior, but as cleaner, having to clean away the left overs from fights. She hasn't given up hope, but she also hasn't seen all of the darkness of the universe.
1. Arena

Lotor shouldn't have been able to win. That was the thought that had kept Pidge awake at night after the sudden victory of Prince Lotor. It was a battle that had destroyed Allura's castle and sent the lions running away once more to the four corners of the universe. The prince had taken them all prisoner and separated them. Since then, Pidge hadn't seen her friends. She had been taken to the fighting arena Matt and Shiro had been forced to compete in, except she wasn't here for sport. Pidge was here to clean up after the fights, the bodies and the gore left over from the brutal Galra sport.

It was another night that she was left sore and exhausted in the bed the robots had provided for her. Her basic needs had been attended to in exchange for her servitude and reluctant obedience. She was allowed one shower in the morning, a bed made from spare ship parts that she had been left to build herself, a blanket and pillow made from spare fabric, and a fresh set of clothes every week. Two meals a day were given to her, the same food the victorious gladiators got to ensure they were strong enough for the next fight - it tasted like earth.

Her first week in the arena, Pidge's clothes were destroyed. The white and green of her clothes were soaked through with red, black, and violet. She hadn't been able to tell what was blood, and what was... other. She was almost glad for them to be gone if they hadn't been her last ties to the new life she was leading, a life where she was part of a team she loved and she was close to finding... She hadn't thought about Matt in a long time. She hadn't wanted to. The fact that she had been so close to finding him and then suddenly all her progress striped away, her beloved lion abandoning her per Keith's request - it had been too much to bare.

Lotor himself visited her, checking in to make sure she was still subservient and well cared for enough that she wouldn't rebel. The first time she had met him, she had snapped at him, trying to land a hit or bite him, or anything, but his strong generals held her off, the blind reptilian woman Narti slapping her hard across the face with her tail. The impact had knocked her unconscious, and in the morning, Pidge had been forced to go back to work.

Now, when Lotor visited, Pidge remained in a silent rage, watching him with her analyzing green eyes. He would talk about how her friends were still alive, but never where they were - with the exception to one.

Lotor loved to talk about what he did to Allura.

Allura had been taken back to Lotor's castle, left to wander the halls of his palace like a pet, even given a bed in his personal bedroom - one fit for a Galran watchdog. He liked to laugh, describing how her beautiful white hair would get tangled in her bronze collar, mixed with flecks of what was left of the comet - a final insult to an already permanent injury. Once a proud and beautiful princess, almost an adult, was now a prisoner of war to a deranged prince born from undead parents.

Today was not one of the days he would visit. Pidge had begun to mark the days on her bedroom wall. Lotor's visits were always the first of the marks on her wall. A constant reminder of how her days were decided by him, how he changed and ruined everything. Pidge was alone, barred from even speaking to the other enslaved members of the arena. All she had was her desire for revenge and the twitch in her fingers that desired her keyboard, or really any ability to work on programs and computers.

When Pidge woke up the next morning, it was her hour of free time, before breakfast and her shower. She exited her room, walking barefoot on the cold sub floors of the Galran arena. None of the other slaves were awake yet, since none of them were allowed the same freedoms as a prisoner of war. As a paladin of Voltron.

She could hear the sound of the fights on the floor above already. She had learned quickly that the Galra liked to watch fights early in the morning, take a break to go about their business, and then return for more. It was like all they liked was fighting, but Pidge knew better. The Galra were greatly intelligent and used quintessence as a source for their newest weapons and technology. She knew they were capable of greatness and yet focused on the slaughtering of innocents to conquer the galaxy.

She climbed the stairs meant for her and the others to go out and clean, just beside the space where they held prisoners before their fights. This room was open and full of buckets for body parts from the night before. She shivered, seeing them and remembering the aliens they had belonged to. She remembered their screams, the way their eyes widened and begged for merc-. Pidge immediately shook the thought from her head before going up to the door, opened just a crack, like usual. She could barely see anything except for the reigning champion, Galrax.

Galrax was a half-blooded Galra warrior bred specifically for land war and the arena. He was three times the size of an average Galra warrior and even bulkier. He was missing his right eye, the left one glowing yellow and rageful. His body was covered in grey scars, stark against his purple skin. He was intimidating to say the least. He dressed in an almost Roman style with a single leather strap across his body holding up loose, worn shorts. He was barefoot, somehow able to stand atop the sand without sinking in, agile on ground that should be impossible to fight upon.

Pidge watched him swing an axe bigger than her body into a smaller alien, slicing his body cleanly in half. The Balmeran's blood spurt across the white sand, a color that was teal in hue, a color like river water, life giving and beautiful and - oh no, that was it's blood. She wanted to throw up. All she could think about was the Balmera, how Hunk and saved their people and defended the living planet. The moment Voltron was capture, the plant and had been the first to be taken back. Lotor had told her himself. They had taken the rebels and forced them into the fights, including Shay. No one knew what happened to Shay. Pidge backed away from the door, heading back down to her room to meet the robots or try not to think about Shay when she heard a voice. She stopped and turned back, running toward the crack into the horror that was Galran entertainment. Was that...

She could barely see between the doors and spotted... "Shiro," she breathed, spotting a white tuft of hair amongst black and a glowing violet arm. There was no way... Had he seriously been thrown back into the area? "No, no, no, no..." She didn't want to watch any longer, but her eyes were glue to her former leader, the man who was like a second father to her, who held her when she was worried about her family. That was Shiro in the arena.

 **A/N:** Holy shit, its been literal years since I've uploaded anything... I've got to apologize for that, if I have any fans out there (I see ya mom ;)). Anyway, I hope to turn this into a full story with psychological/gore themes. Just be warned, I'm planning to be very descriptive in the future about this. I don't know what I want to do with it yet, but I know I want it to be dark. Likely, I'll get a few chapters in and then give up... Whelp, I hope you liked the taste of what's to come. - Raven


	2. Glass

She stared at the form in the arena, catching only his black and white hair along with his glowing violet arm. Shiro... Shiro was in the arena, fighting Galrax. Pidge's breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling against the door. Why was Shiro here? Was he okay? Was that even the Shiro that they had come to space with? The same one who had sacrificed himself in this very arena for her older brother? She couldn't see his face and she was limited on time, the robots would be waiting down stairs soon to make sure she ate, if she wasn't there on time, there'd be consequences that were unknown waiting for her. "I'll be back, Shiro," she muttered, stepping away from the door before heading back to her room, "If that is you."

There were two Shiros now. The original, lost somewhere amongst Galran war ships and the clone... The clone that Haagar and Lotor had sent to them, a trojan horse with a familiar smile. He had led them right into Lotor's waiting hands, and worse still, he hadn't even known that he was betraying them all. Likely now, they had gotten rid of their empty vessel or placed him back into whatever twisted womb he was born from.

The sounds of fighting echoed after her, each swing of axe and sword vibrating through her body. It felt like she abandoning Shiro, despite the possibility that he may be a fake, but this was all she could do for now. If she was going to visit him or break him out, for now the best she could do was negate suspicious behaviors, even if it ate her up inside not to take action now.

One thing she missed about being a paladin was the ability to jump into danger without fear, her lion protecting her and helping her solve problems in the heat of battle. The connection she shared with the mechanical beast had been one she had taken for granted, the understanding she shared with it lost in the deepest reaches of space. She may have been started out as a tech girl, but she had enjoyed fighting alongside her friends, getting to know them more intimately and forgetting, just for a moment that her family was missing. Now, her paladin family was missing, and the whole they left was bigger than her father and brother's disappearance. It was bigger than the false Shiro's betrayal.

In her room, the robots were waiting, staring blankly ahead with a tray. She didn't even need to look at it to know about the gray mush inside of the ceramic bowl with only a spoon to eat it with. The robots didn't respond or move as she entered and took the bowl, sitting down on the edge of her hand made bed. Their guns were slung in a belt around their hips, made to be less threatening but still dangerous. If she made a move in front of them, they'd have her pinned down or with a few extra holes. Pidge took a bite, shuddering at the ashy texture. This was all she had to eat and it never tasted any better.

"Bathing time," the robot with the tray said, it's screen flashing violet. The two others flanked her sides, urging her to stand despite the fact that she'd barely begun to eat. She tried to shovel down as much as she could despite the taste - she had to eat to stay strong, even if the food didn't agree with her human physiology. As they marched her down the hall, she kept trying to finish her food, spotting the other slaves beginning to move around the arena sub-floors. They ogled her, knowing that she was a paladin of Voltron, and the only human slave amongst them. Not only that, but she got special treatment from Lotor and the robots. Even if she was allowed to interact with the others, more likely than not, they wouldn't be interested in befriending her.

It was basic psychology, really. Introduce someone new to a group of oppressed individuals and treat the new comer like they were special when there isn't anything about them to make them so. The majority who remain ill treated with shift their attention from the oppressors to the special individual. That one person will be cast from all social groups and more likely to be attacked, used a punching bag for those with no way of getting their aggression out.

The robots lead her to another staircase, directly across from the one she and the slaves used to go up and clean. This one went down, however, and into an open area for gladiator victors to bath off the blood and look presentable for their next battle. Lotor also used it himself after his fights. According to the rumors she'd managed to hear from the others while they worked, he participated in the arena for fun. In fact, he was known and respected for challenging a fellow Galran for the throne here. Likely if that were true, his fighting ability would far surpass Pidge's, maybe even the real Shiro's.

The stairs opened up to what looked like the shadowy surface of the moon. The uneven rock on this floor was black like onyx, neon blue pools of water that were oddly shaped spread around, glowing as the only source of light. The place reminded Pidge of Yellowstone when she had gone to visit as a little girl, the hot springs and naturally warm pools smelly and beautiful and deadly. These pools were far from deadly and self-cleaning from what she had seen. The robots couldn't go farther than a few steps in the bathing area, which meant that down here she was safe from their control.

Of course, she had tried to make plans here, store parts to build equipment that she found walking around the subfloors during her one hour, but the others who used this space found her attempts. They were always moved, destroyed, or presented to her by Lotor himself. He would never out right accuse her since he had no evidence, but the threat was clear - Stop trying, or else.

At this hour, Pidge was alone, she usually was since gladiators bathed before fights or right after. She walked to the pool in the center of the room and began to take off her clothes. A loose fitting purple poncho over the skin tight grey suit tucked into her nearly knee high black boots. It seemed like an expensive uniform for slaves and prisoners, but when they had first come to space, Allura had practically given them the same space suit that adapted to their bodies. Most likely it had the same chameleon-like properties from the alliance the two alien species had once shared

Before stepping into the water, Pidge glanced at the wall. The space seemed endless, but that was because of the obsidian mirrors that surrounded the room. The Galra may have been a race driven into madness by their leader, but these was a beauty in what they made sometimes.

She stared at what her body had become. Pidge's malnourished hips and thinning arms made her cringe, her ribs clearly visible through her skin. She was almost sixteen now, and yet, she still looked so young and undeveloped. Her breasts still hadn't grown, although she didn't care about looking feminine, however the lack of femininity that she should have gotten from her mother said a lot about her development was being stunted.

The food they were giving her likely wasn't the best for her human physiology, just enough to keep her alive and yet weak. She wanted to be strong and eat more, but odds were because she wasn't Galra, it wouldn't work. Her hair had gotten longer as well, reaching down past her shoulder blades. The ends were all split and dry. The last time she'd gotten anything for her scalp was back on Allura's castle, and while she could keep it clean, it wouldn't be enough to stop dandruff from a dry scalp.

She stepped into the water, feeling the warm fluid wrap around herself, enveloping her. All she had to look forward to was the baths now. It felt amazing on her body, easing her aching muscles. Pidge let her whole body slip in, letting out a sigh, her growing hair spreading out around her. Here, she didn't have to worry about the itch in her fingers to type or the Altean language lessons she strangely missed. She didn't have to think about where Lance, Keith, Hunk, Allura, or either Shiro were. Here, she was free for just a moment and then...

"Times up." The robot's voice echoed in the room. It didn't move.

Pidge got out of the pool, quickly getting back into her clothes and feeling relief even if she hadn't been able to properly wash herself today. She walked back across the room to the waiting robots. Since day one, she had wanted to play with them, go into their systems and rewire them to create petty chaos so she could escape. However, it was impossible to do so when the three of them watched each other's backs and her at the same time. She would have been better off trying to open the vents and sneak into a ship hanger. The problem with that, was that many vents in the sub-floors lead to the outside of the arena ship - space.

The mindless bots lead her to the space where she witnessed Shiro. The others were waiting, empty buckets and mops in their hands. The robots remained on the outside of the room as Pidge entered, she grabbed a bucket and small sand scooper. Cleaning the arena floor was like cleaning a cat's litter box - if a cat left it's intestines in it's litter box.

The doors opened, revealing the empty arena, twice the size of a football field. The arena seats were empty, the robots wandering through it and cleaning up after the rowdy crowds. The other slaves hurried out on the sand, their expressions blank and withdrawn.

Pidge walked past the others, searching for the spot she had caught a glimpse of Shiro holding his ground. There was no way of knowing if he had survived the fight, if it had been cut before two valued warriors died, or if Galrax had made another victory yet. Half-heartedly, she scooped up dried blood on the sand and placed it in her bucket. There had to be some residue left of where he was. Shiro was here right? Some part of her wanted it to be Shiro so bad, even if it was the fake one. A familiar face would inspire her to renew her escape attempts, remind her of hope, but planning would be difficult when she had no idea what to look for and every attempt beforehand had been thwarted.

The bones and gore from the earlier fights sat out, waiting to be picked up, catching Pidge's eyes more than she wanted to. "Evidence of Shiro," she said aloud to herself, moving further toward the center when she tripped.

The girl almost landed face first in a stack of yellow organs, similar to the digestive track but with a slimy heart at it's center, the shape growing hard as it decayed rapidly. She backed away, not wanting to touch what was left of the alien that had once been forced to face against an unstoppable force. With what was in front of her, Pidge was almost terrified to see what she had tripped over, but curiosity had always led her down paths with both and evil waiting for her. She turned and gasped.

There, amongst the sand was a slice of glass. It was starting to fill with sand, but it was clearly an opaque glass structure that appeared to be made from a burning hand slicing through it. A hand that may have been an alien prosthetic. "Shiro," Pidge breathed, taking it in.

 **A/N:** Wow, this chapter is much longer than the first, haha. I'm going to be doing my best to explore story elements here along with the Voltron characters. If you notice, I mention that Shiro has a clone. Now, I haven't been on tumblr for a while (to avoid spoilers) but I believe the Shiro that came back was a clone, a trojan horse (as mentioned earlier) to lure the Paladins into a false sense of security before taking them out. I believe the clone doesn't know he's a clone, believing he is Shiro and doing what's best for the team. I could be entirely wrong, though. Also, Clone!Shiro's hair before the cut reminds me so much of Samurai Jack, hehe. Well, please leave a review if you liked it. I will try to post new chapters every week, but I make no promises.


	3. Pick Axe

All of his muscles hurt. Lance sat up, his head pounding and his bearings remaining out of his grasp. He wasn't sure where he was or why. All he knew was that his head was throbbing and his clothes were itchy. He looked down and saw a pick in his hand. He was wearing gloves - did he normally wear gloves? He remembered his suit, sitting inside a ship that purred in his mind like another layer of thought. Yes, he wore gloves often, but not like these. These were worn and dirty, made from an alien fabric meant to be durable not comfortable and furthermore not meant for piloting lions. Lions...

It all came rushing back in a flood of memory - the lions, Voltron, Lotor, Shiro's betrayal and then... The mines. His eyes finally adjusted, his headache dissipating slowly as he realized he had been in a mine for the last year. Lance stood up, his legs wobbly in the grey suit of Galran slaves. What had happened. He put a hand to his head, and glanced around him. The rocks from the mine had fallen, and based on the blood on some of them, he had taken a nasty hit to the head.

There was blood on his hand when he removed it from his head. He looked at the rocks, blood stained on the rocks. "Oh no," he murmured. A head injury was the last thing he had expected or wanted. Head injuries bled, a lot, or was that leg injuries? Pidge would know, Pidge always knew. Keith would get mad at him for being careless. Hunk would panic from the blood. Allura would roll her eyes and tell him to be careful. And Shiro... Shiro would rip his clothes and start treating the wound. He missed his paladin family desperately. No one here spoke English or Spanish and the robots we're much for conversation.

He began to walk back to the entrance, the soft hum of the electric lights the only sound aside from his footfalls. How long ago had the others gone back? Had they tried to wake him? Lance didn't feel light headed, but he also didn't feel right. His body felt right and wrong at the same time and all he wanted was to lay down. Most likely he had a concussion - was he supposed to sleep after one? Or was that comas? No, comas were waking after years of slumber. Thoughts like this continued to go through Lance's mind when he got back to the mine's entrance. He continued to wish for Pidge or his phone or access to the castle's database, anywhere he could his questions answered - anywhere he wouldn't be alone.

As per usual, it was left open, no signs of the door that should block its entrance at night. He didn't know if the door was to keep the miners out or something else in. The robots were gone too, likely believing all the prisoners and slaves had left already for the night. He started down the path to cabins, the only housing they received on this overtaken planet. And then, Lance stopped. There was a group walking toward him on the path. A group of half-Galra women and a half-Galra prince. "Lotor," Lance breathed as the prince and his generals approached.

"Hello, paladin Lance," the prince drawled, keeping an even stride as he approached, "Or, would you prefer ex-paladin since your precious lions are once more scattered across the universe? You weren't with the others, I was beginning to worry you were trying to escape my custody." A smirk slowly formed on his face as he came face to face with his enemy.

"I can be anywhere I want to be," Lance said, refusing to look at Lotor and refusing to accept that he had lost not only Blue, but Red as well. It had been so long since Shiro's clone and his betrayal, but the feelings were still fresh when he looked at the prince. He couldn't still feel the way warm, almost living embrace of being inside of his lions, two distinct comforts that he had loved "I'm not a slave."

Lotor chuckled softly, "Yes, that's correct, Lance. You're not a slave, you're a prisoner of war. You are the face of my rule that tells the entire galaxy to throw away any hope that Voltron will save them. That pretty face will be synonymous with defeat." He walked closer, going around Lance like he was inspecting him, "Do they teach about warfare on your planet, Lance? Do they talk about the hideous fates that befall prisoners of cruel empires?"

Lance didn't answer, not because he hadn't been paying attention in history, which he wasn't, but because he wasn't sure what Lotor was aiming for. Lotor was suddenly in his face, his domineering height causing Lance to take a step back, "I don't know much about what planet you're from, some dreadful thing called 'Earth,' but I will be sure that when I find it, I will make you and the other paladins watch as I make it mine."

"Not going to happen, buddy," Lance snapped back, "We're not going to be your prisoners forever. Voltron will be back."

"I'm looking forward to it," Lotor hissed. He turned around, his long white hair flipping behind him. His generals all gave last looks to Lance, mixes of rage, pity, and curiosity. "Come, we don't have anymore time to waste, ladies." And with that being his last words, they boarded his ship and left, his generals protesting as they followed their prince. Lance watched them go into the dusty red sky, the Galra ship's angry purple lights growing smaller as it shot into space.

For a few moments, he kept staring at where the Galran prince had been, "Now I just have to figure out how we're going to find each other."

 **A/N:** So, I will be updating this story weekly (hopefully) on Fridays. I'm going to be starting school on Monday, so that may change in the near future. I'm trying to write chapters in advance so I won't have to worry about them, but I don't know how long that strategy will work. Thank you for the support - reviews are _always_ welcome and _encouraged_. 


	4. Mines

Hunk was rarely viewed as a threat by Voltron's enemies, but Lotor was an exception. He had seen the muscle beneath the fat, potential for aggression beneath his smile, and decided it was best to let all of that rot. Lotor hadn't placed Hunk is a special prison like he did with the others, instead of focusing on how to outwit their strengths, he played to Hunk's. He'd taken the Samoan paladin back to the Balmera and placed him in the kitchen of the guards working to ensure the living planet's inhabitants removed crystals.

Working in a kitchen with volunteers and slaves that could speak his language, Hunk quickly found community, but felt something lacking. He missed the intimacy he shared with Lance and Pidge, he missed the way Shiro would go out of his way to teach him and behave like the father figure he had turned out to be. He even missed Keith and his odd way of showing affection to others with little awkward pats and poorly strung words of encouragement.

He sighed, kneading dough on the sterile, cold counter of the kitchen. It was built far below the surface into the Balmera with connecting hallways to the guards quarters, the slaves quarters, and the entrance into the main foyer of the mines.

When he first was brought here, Hunk had tried to search for a way out - any way out. It wasn't hard to make up excuses to wander outside the mines and search for ways out, like with the crystals, but there were too many variables. Beyond that, Hunk's anxiety of being caught had prevented him from taking any action. If Lance were at his side, he'd still feel anxiety but Lance's fierce determination would force him to follow. In odd ways, Lance was the source of his anxiety and what helped pulled him out. Pidge could reason with him, and for the most part it helped, but Lance was the one who ripped him away from the safety bar, both literally and physically, and into danger and adventure.

Hunk sighed again, gathering the dough and placed it into a bowl before sprinkling flour over the alien dish. It wasn't exactly a prison here, but it was far from a comfortable paradise. Sure, he could cook and talk with the others, but it wasn't home, it wasn't safe. Lotor's mine inspections proved as much.

He grabbed a spoon, the wood a comfortable weight. He moved it around before he realized - he'd been playing with the utensil like it was his lion. Slowly, he set the spoon down and passed the bowl to a predominantly pink alien girl with green eyes, "Here, will you finish this for me? I need a breather." She nodded and continued working.

The yellow paladin followed the violet lights of the hall out to the entrance of the mines. He watched Balmerans lug fetal crystals up to the loading bay, a hole that went straight up the Balmera's surface. Likely, there were guards up there, waiting for the crystals with guns at their hips and impatience in their eyes. He'd seen the way soldiers looked at Balmerans as they were forced to dig up the life force of their home planet. There was no compassion in how they looked at them, just jaded eyes looking for any excuse to use the weapons on their hips.

He'd followed the crystals up before, walking beside them and telling soldiers he was just going up for some fresh hair. They let him, either because of Lotor's orders or because they didn't view him as a threat. Hunk always kept his word reluctantly and would go the surface, feeling the alien sun warm his face and enrich his paling skin. He could have spent hours in the Balmeran sun just relaxing and eating with his friends, but he was here as a prisoner. He was here as a reminder to the people that he had once lead that Voltron was gone. The love he had for the Balmera was becoming disfigured into a sickening guilt.

Hunk walked closer to the mines, long poles on the inside of the opening clear even from his current distance. Upon those poles were the bodies of Balmerans, more specifically, those who had resisted Lotor's re-invasion of their planet. Upon the center spike, closest to the mouth, was the body of Shay. She had been the first, an example to all what their allegiance to Voltron would cost them. Behind her, her grandmother was strung up as well, her aging skin rotting faster than her granddaughter's, the fat dripping into a building yellow pile. As far as Hunk was aware, Shay's brother Rax, was still alive amongst those enslaved. The last he'd seen of him was the stabbing look full of despair and betrayal that haunted Hunk's dreams.

The yellow paladin had been present for Shay's death, in fact, it was the first thing he had seen returning to the living planet with Galran shackles around his wrists and throat. The reason Lotor had killed Shay wasn't because of Hunk's growing feelings for the alien girl, but simply because she was the face of their rebellion, she was the one who had the most contact with Voltron.

Her death had been slow and painful to watch. There was something about watching another species get tortured, how they bled different and cried from different points of their body that varied wildly from his own. He watched Galra soldiers pull off the rounded points that were her fingers the crystal-like bone beneath the surface of her skin vibrant covered in her red blood. She'd cried, neon violet tears staining her earthy face and dripping on the Balmera's skin. The planet had cried as she had, mourning the loss for the extension of itself. Hunk could still feeling the hollow shaking of the planet as it mourned.

As Shay had died, Lotor turned to Hunk and began to take off his shackles, "Cutting off the head of the rebellion can inspire one of two things - the will to fight back harder or the desire to give up. Which one do you feel, yellow paladin, Hunk?"

Hunk had wanted to give up. As Hunk stared at Shay's corpse, he knew that he had given up.

 **A/N:** Hey there my loyal FF followers! Its Friday once more and so here's the newest chapter. I'm trying to catch up on writing and almost didn't have this one ready for today. Thankfully I got it done along with the fifth chapter and began work on the sixth. I'm trying to keep the pacing relatively rounded, focusing on one character at a time. I'm getting impatient though because I already want to get back to Pidge already -_- I've got a lot planned for her. Once I'm through updating you all on the paladins, it'll go back to Pidge I promise. Remember to leave a comment/review - I love hearing what you all have to say and think! Thanks for reading!


	5. Fire

"Get up, laying in bed is no way to fight back or give up," a cold male voice spoke, echoing in the dark bunker, the only light coming from the Galra emergency lights in the corner.

Keith didn't want to sit up or move or exist. It was bad enough his poor leadership skills had put his newly found family in danger, but he'd also brought the fake Shiro, Kuron, home. He had looked him dead in the eyes and welcomed him - a Trojan horse ignorant to what his purpose was.

Keith finally sat up and turned to where Lotor stood just outside his bunk, arms crossed and face frowning. "It's been too long for you to be acting like this now, Keith. You are training to be a soldier, one who is equipped to fight at my side. You cannot begin mourning your precious existence now of all times."

The young man did not answer. Something about his words was correct. When Lotor has first brought Keith here he had decided to participate, to gain knowledge of how Galran ships worked along with their weapons. Being hot headed before had gotten his family imprisoned and had lost him the only father figure that hadn't disappointed him. He had excelled in singular combat and then worked harder than the other recruits to study weapons. Anything the unsuspecting Galran taught him, he vowed to turn into a weapon. He had to avenge his friends - he had to avenge Voltron. Inside of him, that hot headed temper remains, burning lowly, waiting for the chance to burn and consume the boy's enemies. A surprising few had questioned why a half-human boy had been dropped off by their patriarch's son, instead welcoming him with more assignments than the academy had given when he had first come to learn about space.

And then, Lotor had arrived with his slew of half-Galran generals. At first, Keith ignored him, valuing the patience that Shiro had emphasized he'd need over the anger that roared in his belly like a wildfire. But Lotor was a man of surprise and he knew how to manipulate those around him. He had spoken, "How are you training the newest addition to my personal forces, Raecon?" Keith took the information and processed it, believing the next generation of Galran soldiers would be his to practice manipulation and patience. Quietly, he had assessed those in the room, trying to piece together who could be the prince's protege based off their performances that he'd seen. And when Raecon responded, all those thoughts died. "Keith is doing exceptionally well."

Just five words had shattered his conviction. The flame in his belly went out like a candle in an ocean, overwhelming and cold. Everything he had worked for felt like it and evaporated in his hands, no mercy in the days now gone. Lotor's visits became more frequent and he would smile pointedly at Keith and the human boy would feel himself wither. His grades slipped and his textbooks went unread, the flags and bookmarks never growing or moving. He couldn't do this, not when he knew there was no way to work his way to a place where he could get the freedom to search for the lions. Lotor surely would tell him where his teammates were if he asked, but it would only be to break down his spirits, to wave a crumb of information that he was dying to devour but never eat. He would not be able to reach them under Lotor's thumb.

"Keith," Lotor said, grabbing at his attention once more. "You are not a prisoner here, you are misshapen potential for the greater glory of Galra Empire. I know that your mother was absent for most of your life, but that side of you still exists and it's ready to blossom into something great. I know Galran technology responds to your touch as if you were fully blooded. Your loyalties should lie with us, the ones who share more of your blood. We are the strongest parts of your blood, there is no reason to favor the weak when you know they cannot win. Besides, if you are as dangerously sentimental and you appear, you're better off joining our cause and taking over the Earth yourself. Who better to gain their trust and rule than one of their own?"

Keith had stopped listening. He had never felt at home on Earth. He'd been expelled from piloting because he was reckless and hot blooded. In space, he had been on a team that loved him and called him out when he was wrong - but he'd destroyed it with the same temper and recklessness. At the Galra school, he had naturally excelled with vengeance in his heart and his desires quelled. All Keith wanted was to be able to tell his teammates what they meant to him at least once. And maybe, along the way, punch Lotor in his purple face.

"Fine," Keith lied, the diminishing hope for his plan to work was beginning to fade because of Lotor's words. Fine, he'd work under him and he's pretend to like it. But when he got the chance, he'd run and find his own way to Voltron. "I'll try again." He felt something warm in his belly.

 **A/N:** So, I decided to upload the chapter an hour early. I'm exhausted and don't want to wait up until midnight to upload the chapter. Sorry if that threw off any schedules, I'm just tired. I'm going to SacAnime tomorrow and I don't think I'm going to survive this week end, especially with all my homework. Ugh. Don't forget to leave a comment/review! I love getting them.


	6. Numb

It had taken everything he had, but Shiro had finally escaped. Once he had been taken by the Galra with his team left at their mercy. They had taken everything from him - his arm, his team, and now once again his free will. He had been bound and chained for more experiments more needles. He hates needles. He'd forgotten how much he hated needles.

Life was a blur of pin pricks and yellow eyes watching him. Sometimes he felt wet but most times felt numb, like his body wasn't his own. The parts where they pricked him would sing, however, the violation raw and alive on his unfeeling skin.

The first time he'd escaped their alien facilities it was a rush of sensation. His legs had felt weak and shaky, the air cold and so full. He'd shivered and felt uncomfortable, like he it was his first time stepping outside the womb. He'd wanted to cry, but panic had swallowed his tears and so he'd just run, following after the one Galra who had freed him. Re-experiencing the world had been strange and wonderous. It had been something amazing that he never wanted to experience again, but he knew he would. Once he managed escape, he'd feel his legs shake like a newborn fawn.

The worst part wasn't the anxious storm that courses through him during his waking moments, but his broken thoughts. They fragmented and shattered like glass, the ideas sticking in his brain with sharp pains he could no longer reach when he lost consciousness. Was this better than the arena? Maybe, he couldn't tell. He didn't even know how long he'd been asleep until he was awake again.

Shiro thought of his kids, lost in space and likely under the control of Galra. Whatever Lotor had done to them, he could only hope in his heart that they weren't being tortured. None of them were adults, not really, and the thought of those young space cadets being subjected to torture despite their ages sickened him. Sure, piloting Voltron wasn't the task for kids, but the lions had chosen their paladins, not the other way around. None of them had had a choice in defending the universe.

The young man's body vibrated with cold as the fluid from the chamber emptied. Shiro's grey eyes fluttered open, the lab he was in blurry and distorted. The front of the glass chamber opened with a soft hiss, the needles in his arms and legs automatically retreating. Shiro fell forward without the support into waiting arms.

"Comes on, on your feet, we don't have time for this." The person, a man most likely with a gruff voice, began to drag Shiro. He felt too weak to carry himself, a passenger to his own body. "They're waiting for you on The next deck." The hand on his arm was warm and fuzzy, most likely Galra.

The next deck? Shiro still had no idea where he was, but he remembered the arena being on a deck all it's own. The man began to moan, "No." It was broken and soft, most likely not enough to communicate his reluctance. He tried to squirm, but his body wouldn't listen. He was dragged, his feet shuffling beneath him, his body wanting to shut down.

The man kept pulling him along for what felt like an hour before he said, "They're coming for you here." Shiro barely had time to process this when the door before him opened.

 **A/N:** I really need to apologize for how late this chapter is and how short it is. I've been so swamped with work and honestly, I have no idea what's going with school work just because of how much I'm doing. Please enjoy this chapter and all its shortness, I'll try to make sure next week's is much longer.


	7. Clone

_Suddenly, the guards were ushering Pidge and the other slaves away, grabbing her scrawny arms and yanking her forward out of the sand and back toward the cleaning room. Pidge tried to ask what was happening, the frightened cries of the others causing her heart beat to race and nervous tingles to light up her body. She stumbled forward, nearly falling out of the guard's grasp when the arena doors opened._

 _There were numerous sets of doors built into the ring of the arena. The idea was that creatures, champions, and traps could come from any which way in the circular combat area. One of the many doors opened to cleaning supplies, another lead to a hall filled with angry exotic animals. The door opening now however, was the one where champions entered. With their heads held high and low, the champion always entered through the same door, the winner's cell that had barely more comfort than the rest of the waiting prisoners that entered directly across from the champion._

 _From the hollows of the opening door, a man ran out. He was tall and muscular, potentially ex-military based on his clean and efficient form. He had a tuft of white hair hanging over his forehead, the rest of his hair was black and pulled back into a ponytail. The man's right arm was reflecting light wildly. His grey eyes were looking wildly ahead, searching for obstacles, not for advantages._

 _Everything around Pidge seemed to stop as she took in the man. The familiar run, the hair, and... oh God the arm. There was no way she couldn't have known him, and yet she didn't. The man running into the arena, the man whose feet were sinking into the uneven sand, wasn't Shiro. Oh, he looked like him and spoke like him. She remembered his voice, the manipulation that salted every word to steer her and her teammates into the wrong direction. The man running into the arena, was Kuron, Shiro's Galran clone._

 _It made sense then, the figure she'd seen, fighting against Galrax wasn't Shiro as she had hoped and dreaded. This was Kuron, the clone the Galra had made to cause Voltron to fall apart at the seams. This was Kuron, the man who had come to them in a shabby mask of who he was supposed to be and lived a lie with every breath he took._

 _Since his time aboard Allura's castle, his hair had grown again. The real Shiro's hair hadn't grown nearly as fast as his did, marking them different despite their shared faces. Once all had come to light, it had been clear that Kuron was a fake. The haphazardly made scar that went across his nose and lilted up instead of being straight. The nonchalance of using his false arm affectedly toward the people he would betray. The tiniest details had screamed he was a fake, and yet, they had all been blind to it. Keith had welcomed him with open arms, desperate to have his father figure back. Lance, wanting balance once more in the team couldn't begin to think to question the true identity of the man he knew to let him address him as "space dad." Hunk, hating conflict, hadn't the heart to question the newcomer despite seeing the warning signs. Pidge herself had ignored the way he looked and spoke and acted because she had wanted Shiro back so badly, and second rate Galran imitation was better than the nothing they had had._

 _But impatience bred their downfall. Their love for Shiro, their father figure, was what got them separated and hopeless. Seeing Kuron now, Pidge's heart hurt and raged at once. She saw Shiro's face and missed him, but she saw Kuron's truth and wanted to tear him apart. It was his fault, it was all his fault. It was so much easier to blame the ignorant clone than deal with the idea that maybe they should have doubted the one of two adults that lead Voltron. It was so much easier to shove the blame onto someone else._

 _From behind Kuron, another group of guards were running after him. Likely, he'd escaped his cell and found his way back to the arena. The centuries, who had better traction on the sand, dove after him, tackling the large man down in a puff of yellow. He screamed, his right hand igniting purple through the flying sand as he used it to tear into the robots. The Galran guards were almost on him, tasers equipped to the top of their night sticks, buzzing with anticipation to dig into the clone's skin._

 _Kuron somehow managed to rip the centurions off of him, the robots now in sparking pieces amongst the sand. He was beginning to get up when he saw Pidge watching him. Green met grey as he took her in for the first time since his betrayal, since he had been recaptured. "Katie?" Hearing Shiro's voice call her by her real name with the face of a traitor and a friend... Pidge's sense of self stopped. She stared at the clone, no longer feeling the robot impatiently pulling on her to get back with the other slaves. "Katie, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll make it up to you, I swear! I'll save Vol-!" One of the guards, an enormous man who was a pastel lavender slammed the charged side of his night stick into Kuron's back. The man screamed, his artificial arm flickering before he passed out in the sand, the scent of burnt skin wafting up into the air. The guards gathered up his body and pulled him back through the day he had come from._

 _Pidge stared in horror and disgust as Kuron was pulled away, still daring to speak to her with Shiro's face. She wanted to cry and scream and leave, oh FUCK did she want to leave this God forsaken place. But she couldn't. Lotor had made sure everything to her advantage was out of her reach, and now he had inadvertently placed both an opportunity and a way to break her, right in her path._

 _It was time Pidge made a choice._

* * *

All of this had occurred four days ago. Since then, Pidge had been lost in her thoughts, trying to figure out what to do about Kuron, what she _could_ do about Kuron. He was the champion now, that much was clear after he had been pulled back to the cell that had once belonged to both Galrax and Shiro. When the guards got him back, Pidge and the other slaves had been allowed back into the arena to finish cleaning. It was then that Pidge had taken in the full extent of the gore in the sand that day. Gore that Kuron had left.

The remains of Galrax had been invisible before to Pidge with her mind only focused on Kuron's sudden appearance, but when he was gone again, it was all her eyes could focus on. The now cold splatters of Galran blood, a violet-red shade that made her think too much of human blood spread across the sand. Clearly, Kuron's fighting style was different than Shiro's quick and efficient style. Carefully, Pidge scooped up the blood like it was cat litter and placed it into her bucket. Kuron was messy and inefficient, aiming for whatever he could get his hands on rather searching for advantages. At least, that was what the blood splatters told her about his way of fighting.

Pidge had shoveled more of the dried blood into her bucket and stopped. In front her were the innards of Galrax, coiled up into a drying pile that vaguely looked like a turd. The other slaves came forward, no hesitation on their faces as they gathered the slimy entrails into a neon yellow bag and moved on.

At this point, Pidge had a new set of options; she could find Kuron and have her revenge for Voltron, or she could acquire him as a new ally. It had been so long since she could confide in anyone and the guards, along with the centurions, were the only ones who spoke her native tongue. Kuron could be a valuable asset, but the thought of his face filled her with rage and anger and... The girl took a breath, this wasn't the time to freak out about the man who put her and her team into this mess of a situation.

Pidge gathered her blankets on the lofted bed made from old parts, the only technology she had touched since being brought here, wrapped herself up and decided. In the morning, she would see Kuron.

 **A/N:** Here's a much longer chapter for you guys! I'm sorry about how late it is. The moment I said I'd be posting on Fridays at 12am I would forget -_-. Anyway, enjoy the story and don't forget to leave a comment/review! I love reading them and seeing what you guys think. Now to start chapter eight!


	8. Prison

The young prince was not happy when he received a call from Zarkon's Prison, the prison Lotor had opened in his father's name. It had been a political move at first, but the prince was able to filter who and what came through the satellite ship - with except to the staff. It was a way for him to work secretly away from Haggar's prying eyes, and his best way of ensuring one of the most dangerous threats to the Galra empire remained inactive. So, when Lotor got the call he had almost escaped, he was livid.

It wasn't like the prince was visiting any of the other paladins today or conquering one of the Voltron-centric planets. He'd been on his way here already, but the news of his almost escape was not what he wanted to be hearing, especially when his current priorities lay in breaking what was left of Voltron - the final piece to his plan of crushing the intergalactic rebellion.

Lotor had left his generals back in his castle, hunting dogs set loose to play with the "pet" princess. Thinking of home, Lotor wondered how long it had been since he'd been back. His battleship of course had a full bedroom, but it was different from sleeping in his soft bed, surrounded by the familiar decor he'd spent his left life collecting in exile. Sighing, the prince rubbed his temple with a long violet finger. "I should have screened these incompetent imbeciles myself."

Slowly, his pod entered through the loading bay, weaponized Galran ships on either side of the runway, ready for escape or to provide emergency troops. A small team of Galran scientists were waiting for Lotor, all of them nervously clutching clipboards or searching through their holographic files. They were trying to seem busy and important while they waited for the prince. They were terrified of being terminated.

The young man sighed again, pulling the joystick back to bring his ship to a halt before exiting. "Where is he?" No time to be wasted here with the joke of a resource Haggar had instructed him to use. She had said they were aspiring minds yet to bloom, but in reality, they were the rejects that the Galra had no use for, except to send away to places like Zarkon's Prison or with other minial labor.

"He-He's right this way, Your Majesty," a small Galra woman said, clearly an apprentice who got chatty when scared. Nonetheless, Lotor followed the girl as the party of supposedly intelligent life forms followed, trying in a chorus of chaos to explain what had exactly occurred.

"I don't want to hear it," Lotor snapped. "What matters is that he is contained and will not be a problem in the future." The hallway they were in was lined with doors glowing with light purple frames - all except the door at the end of the hallway. This was glowed blue around the frame - a medical lab instead of a testing lab. The door opened on it's own and Lotor entered, ignoring the valued Galran soldiers in psuedo-fetal slumber. At the very back of the room was his prize.

Lotor approached the clear glass tube that stood perpendicular to the floor. "My, my, you sly rat. You're luck you were too drugged to know where you were going, otherwise you may have fallen into the void of space, Shiro. Your precious paladins will be happy to know you're alive - when it comes time to use that bargaining chip."

"Prince Lotor," a older Galran woman with grey in her hair and bags under her eyes approached the prince, "We've found the traitor. He's being held below in the Prison Deck-."

"Load him onto my ship."

"Excuse me if this is out of line, but I think it's best-."

"Load. Him. Onto. My. Ship." Lotor did not turn to look at her, instead staring at Shiro's unconscious form floating in the fluid that was keeping him unconscious and alive. His hair was much longer, nearly halfway down his back. Thick stubble covered his jaw and half his cheeks. He no longer looked like the efficient head of Voltron, but a young man who'd given up. "And remove his arm. He needed that when he was just a show pony, now, he's the most valuable chess piece I have on this board."

The woman was quiet for a moment. She swallowed and bowed to the Prince's back, "Vrepit Sa." And with that, she left.

"Shiro," Lotor purred, "Don't make yourself a nuisance for me."

 **A/N:** Another shorter chapter, ugh. I didn't get a lot time to write this week and mostly like won't next week either ( _whysomanyessaysproffessor._ ) On the bright side, I think I managed to write what I wanted to for this week, shaking things up a bit with Lotor. I have to admit, I don't think I characterized him well, but we didn't see nearly as much of him as (I) wanted to.

Lastly, I just really want to thank that small number of you who are reading this. Your comments (and questions) mean a lot to me and really help make a more concrete story. So please, feel free to ask questions - especially about characters! Again, it helps me out with where I need to improve and I'm happy knowing I get to answer where your minds are going when you read my work.

Thanks a lot for reading!


	9. Vents

Pidge's fingers tapped impatiently against her side, staring at the empty ceiling above her. She couldn't sleep. After deciding to see Kuron, she had barely managed a few hours of sleep before anxiety roused her to wakefulness. Today, during her free time, she'd find the clone in the winner's cell and confront him. The teenage girl rolled onto her side, now staring at the blank wall.

When she had first come to space with Lance and the others in Blue, it had been impossible to tell time. There was no warming Sun to rise and fall, to segregate night and day. In space, twinkling stars eons away were the only natural sources of light. Sure, the other planets she had visited had suns, but nothing like Earth's. Lance had complained about the lack of beaches and now Pidge understood. There was no place in any galaxy like Earth.

The bedroom light came on then, the sentries entering to wake Lotor's youngest prisoner. For a moment, Pidge didn't move, staring at the soft violet light glowing on the chest and visors of the robots. "Wake up," their synthetic voices commanded lifelessly. The girl sat up slowly, staring at the robots with her legs dangling from the side of her bed. She slipped off, her feet touching the cold ground. She had one hour to find and speak with Kuron before the robots would try to find her.

The girl hurried down the hallway, her tiny legs moving quickly, the sounds of her bare feet slapping the smooth floors echoing through the dimly lit halls. She moved like she was going to the cleaning room, circling around through the wide halls until she found a hall corresponding with where she had seen the winner's door. The girl ducked through it, searching for a door way until she realized - there wouldn't be a formal door to the winner's cell. Most of the facility was run by sentries or by the small rotating staff. A big open door wouldn't be necessary, especially when the winner would only be going into the arena in hopes they'd get to return to their cell.

Pidge looked up and spotted a small air vent, big enough for someone her size. Of course it would be the vents. Taking a breath, Pidge backed up, and ran forward, using the corner of the hallway to propel herself up and over to the vent like Keith had taught her when they had begun their training for Voltron. Leave it to the emo kid to know how to parkour.

When her fingers caught the metal grate, Pidge nearly shouted as the cold metal dug into the soft skin. Regardless, she pulled herself up with the withering muscles of her arms and yanked the gate back and open. Carefully, using her upper body to drag her lower half inside the vent and began to crawl forward. Her fingertips were throbbing with pain, likely with shallow cuts, but she had a time limit and she did not want to expire.

It was surprisingly clean inside the vents, the metal just as smooth as the hallway floors. It was cold and dry under her skin as she crawled forward. She had to find Kuron's cell, as soon as possible. She had wasted time searching for the door way, and with no watch or clocks anywhere in the building, she had no idea how much time she had left.

Through and through the vent she went, checking each opening of the vents until... She could see down into a dark pit, a small open space leading to a gate just a few feet away. Further on was a tunnel, most likely leading to the arena. If Pidge could see directly below her, she'd likely see the lofted bed inside the cell. Taking a breath, Pidge called out, "Kuron?"

There was a startled noise from down below, some shifting and then - "Katie?"

A moment of silence passed between them. It always startled her to hear his voice, so like Shiro's and yet without any of his experiences. He cared, but not like Shiro had, asserting himself as a respecting and loving father figure. Kuron hadn't known how to establish himself before "leader." The young woman spoke again, "I wanted to talk to you. I... I want to get out of here, and I think you can help me."

"Why would... Why would you trust me again? After what I did... After Voltron..."

"I don't want to. I shouldn't, but you're my only shot out of here. Lotor has been careful to keep my hands away from any technology, anything that would let me call for help or get out. But you have more access to tech than I do..." She swallowed, "I want you to collect junk. The sentries won't care if you gather wires and gadgets, I can lead you in building a transmitter. If I can get in contact with..." But who would she call? Voltron was gone and she had no idea where Lance or Hunk or any of the other paladins were. Allura no longer had her castle as she was now a pet in Lotor's castle.

Kuron interrupted the silence, "I understand, Katie. I'm not good with tech, or anything really, but I promise, I'll make up what happened. I will redeem myself, not just to Voltron, but to all of you."

"Just, focus on collecting tech, any pieces will be of help. I'm going now. I'll be back as soon as I can." Pidge didn't wait for a response, moving backwards in the vent until she could turn around. It would take too much time to go back the way she came and go back to her room, so she'd have to try and exit where she cleaned before the matches.

Her heart was racing in her chest as she searched for the right exit, anywhere that would be closer to where she needed to be. If she couldn't get back in time, the sentries would declare her missing and report to Lotor - or at least, she hoped that's all they'd do. With each movement of her body, it felt like time was sluggishly past it's time mark, an end she was scared of. All her work and newly found hopes would be dashed if she was-.

Pidge found the vent, pushing it open and slipping out, hitting her feet hard on the floor, the skin and knees of her body singing with the force. The girl hurried, running toward her room from the side of the arena the cleaning supplies resided. She ran and ran until-.

Her bedroom door was filled with sentries. Had she been gone too long? She slowed her pace, trying to seem casual as she approached her bedroom door. As she got closer she realized not all the robots were from the facility - some were escorts. She could tell from the different weapons they were holding, the larger and heavier looking ones for war - not for keeping prisoners in line. Her fingers trembled and her heart kept beating too fast in her chest. She hadn't been keeping track of the days. She hadn't been paying attention because of Kuron's appearance.

Inside, waiting impatiently for the young woman's arrival, was the prince of the Galra Empire himself.

 **A/N:** Hey guys! Its been a rough week, but I've managed to spend more time writing (for me not essays, haha) and I think this chapter was pretty okay. I wish I could have been more detailed with the directions of the facility, but I think its more about conveying the story then those kinds of overly complex details (although I still care). I'm really excited for what I have planned, I've been sitting on this idea for a long time and I think it'll work well for this story.

Please leave comments and questions! I love trying to answer them in my continuations. Thanks so much for reading!


	10. Horizon Lines

p dir="ltr"It was always hard to fall asleep on the mining planet. With a heart sick for home and a stomach queasy with anxiety, Lance laid curled up in his bunk. The nights on this planet were bright, the moonshine almost as bright as their sun's and Lance was without his mask. When the boy had looked up at the sky with the stars reflected in his eyes, safe on the rooftop of the Garrison, he would never have imagined he would end up here. He never imagined a giant blue robot lion he'd fall in love with and then to leave for a purple alien prince taking away his best friends and newly found family. He never imagined he would end up a prisoner of war or have to work inside a mine with less than a hundred aliens who didn't speak English. Some part of him wanted to regret not joining Pidge in learning Altean, but another part knew that learning it wouldn't have benefitted him even now./p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"Lance rolled over and looked out the dusty cabin windows where he could see the soft glow of the sentries outside, standing guard with their equally vibrant guns. He missed his bayard, the warm weight of the alien metal familiar like he was holding his own limb. If he had his bayard, he would have been able to take out the guards, maybe find a way to escape. Right now, he had nothing - not even the confidence and swagger he used to have when he was safe on Allura's ship./p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"After Lotor's last visit, Lance had been more than a little upset. He hadn't fallen asleep that night either, going over in his head the best comebacks and insults to give to the Galran prince. After an hour of that, the futility of all sunk in and Lance had cleared his mind. That particular skill had come to his as of late, pushing aside his thoughts and distractions and just letting all activity stop. It helped pass the time when mining since he had no way to listen to music or talk. It was a defeated tranquility, but at least it was his./p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"Sighing, the former blue paladin rolled out of his bunk, shimmying down the thin wooden ladder, careful not to wake the various aliens sleeping around him. He approached the front door, opening it slowly as not to startle the robots. They were trained to open fire when sudden movements were detected - Lance had learned that the hard way. His right side still ached from where he had nearly taken a blast to his appendix. /p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"The robots turned to acknowledge him, but did nothing more than follow his movements with their artificial gaze. Lance walked out barefoot to the dirt path. There was an outhouse halfway between the mines and the cabins, a tiny wooden hut that barely had room for one person. Many of the aliens occupying the area were small, Arusian-sized creatures - perfect for getting into small space and less likely to meet a bitter end in the event of a cave-in./p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"The space cadet stared at the door of the ou house. He had carved a crescent moon into the top because it looked so much like one from Earth. He thought it would be funny, a way to leave his mark on this planet for when Voltron would rescue him. Now the moon was a cruel joke he had played on himself./p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"From the outhouse, it was easier to see the vastness of the planet. It was smaller than Arus and Earth, that was obvious, but the horizon was still so far off. Lance had no idea if the planet was empty, or if other beings were roaming on the dark side of the planet. He had tried to find out, in the early months of his captivity, when he realized that Voltron would not be coming to save him. The sentries had retrieved him a short while after, dragging him back to the cabins and keeping him under house arrest for the next day. In the morning, he went back to the mines with the others like nothing had had happened./p  
p dir="ltr" /p  
p dir="ltr"Lance could see the horizon now, a tempting mistress with an empty heart. He needed to get out of here, but not today. Today, he was going to work and plan. He'd keep gathering information and piecing together the specifics. Right now his best chance was going through the desert on the mining planet. Lance just hoped he would survive. /p  
p dir="ltr"strongA/N: /strongSorry if this chapter looks weird, FF was being weird. I don't have much to say this week, uh... I'm looking forward to writing more and getting more invested in the plot I've started. Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave and review or comment! I love answering questions and exploring what you have to say./p 


	11. Lunch

_"_ _Pidge, what took you so long? You've over strayed from the time slot allotted to you. Where have you been?" Lotor was checking his watch, his blue-grey eyes focused on the ticking black line. He looked away, finally taking Pidge into his sight. His height and stance were daunting, especially standing in her room, the closest she had to a safe space._

 _Pidge remained where she was in the doorway, her green eyes wide with exertion and fear. "Look, this facility is huge. It's easy for a girl to get lost, okay? Why are you here anyway, doesn't a prince have more important things to do than constantly visiting his prisoners?"_

 _The prince thought for a moment, considering Pidge's words. He signalled for the centuries to flank the girl, "You're coming with me. I have a long night waiting for me and it's time I get some lunch." He exited the room, white hair trailing behind him like a ribbon. The robots pushed Pidge forward, forcing her to follow Lotor down the halls of the arena. He moved with ease, clear familiarization with the building reflected in his every step._

 _"_ _Where are you taking me?" Pidge demanded, struggling to keep up with the prince's long strides. There was unease in her stomach, queasy worry crawling up her esophagus. She did not like this. Lotor had made many visits before, but never had he taken her to another part of the arena's facilities. She had to wonder if he had figured out her meeting with Kuron, if he knew they planned to escape together._

 _Lotor remained silent moving faster until he suddenly stopped, pulling open a door that was marked with Galran letters. For a brief moment, Pidge cursed herself for not learning the language of the Galra and choosing instead to learn Altean, but when she saw inside the room, she realized her choice didn't matter._

 _Inside was dining room, private, and likely used for the Galra elite after the arena battles. A part of Pidge burned with rage thinking of how while she was struggling not to buried in sand, gathering the innards of prisoners of war, here, Galra elites were dining. Here, the rich ate and laughed, likely talking about the skill or lack there of in those they abducted and forced to fight to their deaths._

 _"_ _Sit, hurry," Lotor commanded, taking a seat at the long table, draped with a violet-red table cloth. Glass wine goblets, reflecting purple, the Galra's representative color. Reluctantly, Pidge sat, taking a seat at the other end of the table filling the room. Impatiently, Lotor gestured to the century to bring forward the food he had had prepared before he arrived. "These damn robots are too slow." He pulled up a holographic screen, muttering under his breath, "Update Arena programming, lower levels, section four." He sighed, rubbing his face for a moment before gesturing to Pidge, "Uncover your plate and eat. This is more than a social visit, today."_

 _"_ _I didn't realize the prince of the most tyrannical empire in the galaxy enjoyed my company so much," Pidge shot back. She reluctantly opened the silver-looking cover for the plate one of the robots had set before both her and Lotor. Inside was a strange looking alien, likely aquatic based off the scale placement and curve of the bones. It's eyes were still inside of it's head, bulging out and staring at her. Her first instinct was to ask what the alien fish was, but she held her tongue. Unless she was weaseling information from Lotor, she wouldn't speak with him._

 _Lotor lifted the fish, sucking outs if eyes, red fluid dripping down his chin as he ate. He seemed to forget Pidge was present before his blue eyes shot to her form, currently not eating. "This is from the Depths, or at least what it's called in your language."_

 _"_ _Where is that, exactly?" Pidge asked, taking up a fork and gently poking at the alien fish._

 _More red fluid slid down Lotor's chin as he took another bite from the fish, "I'm surprised you aren't aware of it. According to your ship's files the blue and yellow paladins sought sanctuary there briefly."_

 _Sanctuary? It took Pidge a moment before she realized that he was talking about the neutral planet of merfolk that Lance and Hunk had crashed onto. Another thought sunk into her mind - Lotor's reach had gotten far enough that he'd take over planets beyond the ones Voltron had reclaimed. And finally she realized - "You went through Allura's files?"_

 _Lotor stopped eating. He picked up his napkin, wiping off the blood and fluids from the fish. "We dismantled the former princess's castle. We've backed up and gone through all the files of importance from the ship, including logs and a quote-on-quote 'vlog' from the blue paladin. The information wasn't particularly of value, although I have learned quite a bit more about pilots of Voltron."_

 _Pidge set down her fork, "You went through her files." There was such a violation in knowing what Lotor had done, taking apart their home and taking the information they had worked for over three years to covet. A sense of hopelessness twisted inside of her, "What else did you learn?"_

 _"_ _Ah, Pidge, or should I say Katie, that for me to know, and you to find out."_

 _Two days ago_ , Lotor thought to himself, _arriving at the Galran Barracks, I got too hasty with my plans. I need to dial back my involvement with the paladins._ The bottom hatch of his ship opened and he stepped down and stopped. Before him, lined up were the newly assembled and battle ready Galran soldiers. Their instructor stood before them, saluting his prince. "Why Captain, isn't this a surprise. What may this occasion be?"

The captain smiled, gesturing for one of the graduating recruits to step forward. Keith stood before his peers, back straight and grey eyes focused on Lotor. "He's ready, your majesty."

"Your work is well appreciated. Assign the rest of them to appropriate stations. This one is coming with me." Lotor gestured for Keith to enter the bottom hatch with him.

The captain replied, "Vrepit Sa."

Keith sat before Lotor at the controls, "What are your orders, sir?"

"To my castle, Keith," Lotor said, a slow smirk crawling onto his face. "There's somethings I want to show you."

Keith said two words in response, "Vrepit Sa."

 **A/N:** I have to really, really apologize to you all for not updating last week. It was a really hard for me because of all the assignments I had to do, plus it was my birthday! My mom surprised me with a visit (I'm in school about eight hours from home) and we went out to sushi for dinner. I wanted to write a special chapter and call it "Unlukcy" but I just couldn't get myself to write. Over the weekend I had a bout of writer's block, but my mojo is back! I still have a lot work to do this weekend, but I'll get it done so I can write and read more comic books. Thanks for reading and again, I'm sorry for not updating last week.


	12. Princess

The castle was always too cold, and Allura could never tell if it was because of space, or because of Lotor's affinity for full body suits. The Altean princess wrapped herself further into the fur blankets Lotor had given her on her first day in his isolated castle. It was the only thing keeping her warm, the only comfort she had sitting in the Galra-sized dog bed beside the Prince's four poster one. During the day, the princess didn't move, falling asleep in and out while staring at the bedroom door that remained unlocked. At night, she wandered, searching for escape, knowing the maids and servants were asleep. It should have been easy, she was strong and could change her size and shape to break open the walls of the castle, but it was reinforced and she had no space suit. Lotor had no spares laying in his closet, and he was rarely home to exchange them, so stealing one was off the table.

The prince had a bath joined to his bedroom, large enough to fit one of the paladin's quarter's in. Even in Altea, she had never had such an unnecessarily large space for bathing. Allura liked to believe she was a modest princess, but with such a high title, she doubted even herself in that respect. After the first week of not being able to wash her hair or choose her clothes, she realized just how privileged she was. This was how most of the refugees were living, and the people who gave them even the slightest bit of dignity were scattered across the galaxy under their oppressors.

Allura stood, wrapping the blanket on her shoulders tighter and entered the bathroom. She could feel the collar around her neck coming to life, waking from its slumber to monitor her movements. The floor was cold under her feet, a drastic contrast from the violet carpet in the bedroom. An alien obsidian made up the tiles, purples and silver shining through with the motion activated light, made from corrupted Balmeran crystals. A white clawfoot tub stood out dramatically in the bathroom, tucked into the very back corner below a thick porthole that looked out to the vast darkness of space. A white sink with a heavy basin and water-fall tap stood closest to the princess, a medicine cabinet made of mirrors along the wall ajoining the bedroom and above the sink.

She knew the cabinet held nothing that could help her, but every day, she checked it just in case. There was nothing inside, no pill bottles or magic elixirs - no way of escape or release. Allura wondered briefly if Pidge would have kept her feminine supplies inside the cabinet. She remembered going with her to the space mall to try and find tampons. They had snuck away from under Coran's nose, a girl's trip in an escape pod. At first, she had been confused by the white cotton wrapped in purple, pink, and green plastic. Why would any creature have a need for such a thing? And then Pidge had explained menstruation, toning down the true extent of the female human body. Allura remembered shivering, placing a hand over her own womb thinking about it tearing itself apart once a month. Alteans didn't reach maturity in such a gruesome way, but in a weird way, Allura was glad to know, she was happy to be closer to Pidge even if it was over blood. When they got back, Coran and Shiro were furious, but when the human man saw the boxes in Pidge's arms - he'd silenced Coran and apologized. Shiro had explained he was hurt Pidge wouldn't trust the others to help her, but understood her need for privacy.

Allura missed Shiro's calm and efficient leadership. She was bred and taught to be a leader, in fact she'd gotten quite good, good enough to lead Voltron if need be. Shiro, however, had a natural leadership she couldn't touch, a kindness and humaneness that her harsher training rarely allowed for. Shiro could keep his head, despite his trauma, but Allura was full of passion. She compared herself to Alfor religiously, knowing her father was charismatic and kind, always reaching out to others and knowing where best to place people, even if it was above himself. She wanted to live up to the king shaped black hole he left after Zarkon's betrayal, but Allura was not her father. Allura got angry and expressed it, she yelled and rebelled and that was always her greatest weakness. She was able to rise above her own feelings when need be, as she did when she surrendered to Lotor, but that hadn't stopped her from trying to attack the Galran prince or beating her hands bloody against the mocking windows in a desperate attempt to escape.

Desperate was never a word Allura had considered applying to herself.

Allura missed Pidge and their strange bond. They never got close over a shared female need as Allura had originally hoped, as there were only two of them. Instead, they had bonded over Altean culture and magic. Pidge was hungry for knowledge and Allura wanted to talk about home, she wanted to share about the rocks that came from the sky and how her father had ruled his kingdom. She'd take the other girl to what was left of her father's consciousness, the room empty of thought and full of flowers. There, Pidge would study the Altean language with a more practical method and Allura would reminisce and talk until her all she could do was try not to cry. It was therapeutic and heart breaking, but at least Allura could share her heart with someone else, someone that wasn't Coran and his need to baby her and keep her safe. Allura never wanted to be pitied or babied, and it seemed like her team was more than willing to do so, for reasons she could never understand out of love. She loved Coran, but his overprotectiveness hurt sometimes, especially when she was trying to grow as a leader and member of Voltron. The humans' constant need to tell her it was okay wasn't okay. She lost her entire race and her father and it was all still raw inside her heart. She didn't want to cry anymore about it when she felt lonely, but she still did.

The princess wanted to stop thinking about Coran and Altea. Of course she missed the man who was always like an uncle to her, but it had been over a year since she'd heard from him or known where he was. Lotor had said he wasn't dead, but that wasn't enough for her. She knew there was more to Lotor's words - there always was. He was a snake with a smooth baritone voice and silky white hair.

Before the princess could use the bathroom as she had initially wanted to, she heard the airlock below the castle ship open. Panic surged through her - was Lotor finally back? Was this her time to escape? She hurried out the bedroom, moving quickly across the grey-black floors, passing the wide entrainment room, the war room, and then down the spiral stairs, embedded on the sides with glistening purple gems - likely Balmeran crystals. Her bare feet slapped against the floors, moving down the level to the loading bay. The door that lead to the loading bay opened, revealing Lotor, his generals and...

"Keith?" A wave of relief washed over the princess. She had missed Keith, as she had the others. He was standoffish and moody, but fun to train with and tease. He was cute in a weird way, awkward, and loving from a distance. She was angry at him for something he couldn't help, forgiving him had been a weight off her shoulders and reminder that the universe wasn't black and white. After that, he had tried to get closer to the makeshift family in space, and Allura had done the same. And when Shiro was gone and replaced with the clone, when he had taken over the Black Lion - Keith had gone away, back to that lonely place he didn't let anyone into. Keith was the little brother she never knew she wanted and he was here with Lotor.

The young man stepped forward, his grey eyes down on the floor of a deeper shade. He refused to look at Allura and a heaviness set into the room. Zethrid excused herself, walking up the stairs and not looking back, likely headed to the war room. Lotor seemed to be repressing a smile with the reunion, his eyes fixated on the changing of the princess' face when she took in Keith's Galran gear.

"H..." Keith cleared his throat, "Hello princess." His voice seemed like it was trying not to crack.

"What's going on?" She demanded, looking between Lotor and Keith and the generals who also weren't looking at her except for Ezor - always too curious for her own good. "Is this an attempt to break me, Lotor? It will not work, you may have isolated me, but I will never bow to yo-!"

"I joined Lotor willingly!" Keith's voice cut Allura like a blade. He joined him willingly? "It was better than lying idle and letting the universe perish. I thought... I thought maybe if I joined I could do something. I thought maybe when Earth was taken over I could go home and make sure my friends there were safe."

"And what about your friends here? Your 'Space Family' - like Lance would call us? You were supposed to lead us and instead you join the enemy! Don't you understand by now? The Galra may not all be evil, but Lotor and Zarkon will take and take and take until there's nothing left. I lost everything because of them and they will take everything you and Earth have, too."

Keith swallowed. He wanted to explain his true intentions, he wanted to tell her he missed her and the others and just wanted to get back in the castle and sleep in the control room while Hunk and Pidge talked geek. He wanted to fall asleep to Lance making stupid jokes and Coran never understanding. He wanted to hear the real Shiro's voice telling him it would be okay, his human fingers messing up his hair as he laid there. All his thoughts were on his tongue and if he opened his mouth they would all spill out and betray himself before Lotor, the one who kept watching them like this was all a game. He swallowed again, "I'm sorry, Allura. I need to do what I think is right."

"Then I hope you perish with the rest of them. As you Earthlings say, 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.'" Allura turned, her white hair, uncombed and frizzy swinging behind her. She ran up the stairs, not looking back. She couldn't look back because she didn't want Lotor or Keith to see her cry.

 **A/N:** Hi guys! I'm really proud of how this chapter turned out. I was able to just sit and write earlier this week and felt great! I've got a feeling I'm back on track to where I want to be with this story. Comments are always welcome! I want to answer your questions and hear what you have to say! This week wasn't as bad as the last couple, but I need to sit down and do my homework. Thanks for reading and I'll see you next week.


	13. Mixing Bowl

"Stop moping Keith, you'll wrinkle your youthful face." Lotor said quietly, watching the back of the young man's head as he piloted his ship through the dark recesses of space. The prince sounded bored, clearly seeking entertainment as they worked to get to their next stop.

Keith didn't respond, keeping his eyes focused on the glowing purple buttons before him. He wanted to limit his contact with Lotor, but that was difficult when his ship was barely big enough for him and his generals. He wanted to rebuke he wasn't "youthful" anymore, now nineteen, going on twenty, but that was the kind of behavior Lance would tease him for. He was arguably young, but he felt old and tired. Shiro was like that, in his late twenties, but with jaded eyes and an exhausted smile. Space Dad needs a nap, Lance would say. Hunk and Pidge would pelt him with pillows and blankets to make him sleep when it was late and they were all together playing games. They would all laugh and the whole ordeal would become a pillow fight until Coran would break them up.

"Now I just know you're moping harder." Lotor stood, the sound of his suit rustling as he stepped off his captain's chair and went down to the half-galra boy. "I warned you of what we were doing. If you can't handle it, then perhaps I should take you back to the academy. You may have been a paladin before, but now, you're a soldier. You're my soldier."

"I know, Lotor - Prince Lotor. I just need to get comfortable in how you run your ship."

"I don't think that's the problem, Keith. I think you still value your relationships with the paladins of Voltron."

Keith gave the prince a confused looked, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Of course he did, he was here by the enemy's side for them. "Of course not," he said.

Lotor smiled, "Then renounce them. Right here and right now."

The other generals fell silent, the soft sounds of tapping ending abruptly. Keith felt eyes on him, a heavy weight resting on his shoulders and stomach. He had to do this perfectly, other wise he didn't know what could happen to him or the others. "I'm loyal only to the Galra Empire, to Lord Zarkon and you, Prince Lotor. The paladins of Voltron mean nothing to me now."

The prince seemed pleased at his answer, raising a lightly pat his cheek before he went back to his seat. The generals went back to work, as if nothing had just happened. Keith silently took in a breath - he had to do this, this was his mission. Even if the others hated him, he would succeed and he would reunite Voltron.

The ship turned slowly, heading through space to a green and yellow planet in the distance. It took Keith longer than he liked to remember what planet it was - the Balmera.

Once the ship had landed, the Galra team loaded into one of the elevators going down into the deeper levels of the mine. Lotor seemed to be inspecting the area, keeping his grey eyes on the piles of fetal Balmeran crystals that kept going up and up to the surface to be taken away. "I'm sure this place is familiar to you, Keith. I believe one of your old friends spent a lot of time here."

Keith nodded, "Yeah, Hunk, I think. He made friends here with a girl named Shay - but that's all I really know about it." The elevator stopped, leading into a dim cavern. Lotor stepped out, urging for Keith to hurry up. As he moved, something long caught his eye. The Balmera didn't grow trees - it had no need to feet something that wasn't the Balmerans or itself, so the wood stood out like a sore thumb. He turned his head, catching sight of the rotting corpse of Shay.

It took a moment for the weight of it to sink in - after all, it didn't even look like the alien girl anymore. Her eyes and skin were long gone, the healthy green glow that radiated from the freedom fight gone, leaving only putrid rotting meat. There were no scavengers on the planet, nothing to pick at her body and help with the natural decay, and she was too far from the planet's surface so it would feed off of her as she had fed off of it. Her rotting body was just there, holding no purpose aside from a warning of what came to those like her - to those who fought.

The young man swallowed, feeling his stomach tighten and turn as he thought of how she must have suffered. Shay was rebellious and strong - Lotor's favorite to break.

"Hurry up, Keith. We don't have time to waste."

He hurried after the prince, toward a violet glowing pathway that lead into a manmade hallway, going further up into a white door stood before them. They entered, revealing a large kitchen full of workers from all different planets, ones Voltron had once saved, and others it had never been able to reach. Amongst those working, was Hunk. He was lost in his task, mixing a white batter in a bowl, at that meticulous angle Keith was so used to seeing him working at.

For a moment, all Keith could think about was sitting in the castle's kitchen, watching Hunk work. It was hypnotic as he worked his culinary magic, only speaking when he needed something or asking for opinions. Normally he worked with Pidge, but sometimes, Keith would watch them, pretend he was lost in thought, when instead all he could do was watch Hunk. A man in his element is a sight to behold - all the paladins of Voltron had an element they were skilled in. All of them were hypnotic to watch.

The same nostalgia that filled Keith soured. He was here with Lotor, the one that tore them apart. He could already see the delight and concentration in Hunk's chocolate eyes fading when he would realize that Keith wasn't here to free him. Not yet, Keith reminded himself, he would come back for him and Allura and all the rest. He just had to figure out how.

Lotor called for an alien with six, long slender limbs. He had a mustache covering his mouth and wide, spider-like eyes that seemed distracted. "How are my soldiers stationed here?"

"Just fine, my prince. They're working hard to excavate all the Balmeran's crystals for your project. Hard working soldiers build of quite the appetite. We're busy making food for them all day!" He chuckled nervously. Clearly this man was not of military importance, but based on his position in the kitchen, he was in charge of the soldiers' comforts.

The prince smiled, "Always pleased to hear good news. We'll be on our way then. Have the crystals ready for transport within the week. My plans have been moved up."

"Vrepit Sa!"

With that, he turned, exiting through the same door, "Keith, let's go."

Hunk stopped stirring. Keith froze. He hadn't realized he'd been staring at Hunk, or that he'd spaced out staring at his old friend, dreading the confrontation that would occur when he turned. The former yellow paladin turned, his stirring stopped as he met Keith's eyes. There was disbelief and joy there, pure love of his friend and comrade.

Keith looked away. He knew what was coming next. With light, there was always darkness. He followed after Lotor, refusing to look back at his friend - refusing to see the light in his eyes die.

 **A/N:** Another chapter finished and ready! I'm slowly getting the word count up. I let is get so far down, but at least I had enough content for it. I didn't get any new reviews last week, so I had no idea what you all thought of the new chapter. Constructive criticism is always welcome. In other news, I've had some pretty crazy dreams this week, haha. Not another Voltron one like the one that inspired this fic, but certainly strange ones. Anyways, please remember to leave a review and questions! I love hearing what you guys have to say, it really helps my writing. Thanks for reading!


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